


carus

by gryffindormischief



Series: turn to stone [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Historical Fantasy, Kinda, Married Couple, Married Life, Romance, this has mature bits!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindormischief/pseuds/gryffindormischief
Summary: Sometimes it's harder not to believe in fate.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Series: turn to stone [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/812406
Comments: 32
Kudos: 69





	1. carus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PetalsToFish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalsToFish/gifts).



Three months of marriage have taught Lily a few things about Iacomus turned James. First, he’s fabulous with fresh fish. Second, he cannot drive a motor car to save his life. And third, he wakes up well before sun up without fail. 

A strange addendum to the latter that sort of evolved over time, is his complete infatuation with lie-ins. He wakes, barely stirring in the bed, moon barely set, and huddles himself against Lily.

She’s an unpredictable sleeper so it could be any sort of cuddle moment with varying degrees of danger from Lily’s surprisingly sharp elbow jabs. 

Today though, she wakes and all is right with the world. James is tucked up against her back, his arm banded around her middle, his golden skin warm in the sunlight, and Lily can’t think of a moment she’s felt more content. 

Sunny though it is, winter is well upon them and wind whips through the treetops with a shrill whistle that sends a shiver down her spine. 

Without hesitation, James pulls her closer and presses his lips to the crown of her head. His voice barely above a whisper when he offers a good morning. 

Grinning sleepily, Lily lets her free hand reach back and knit though his curls. “Morning.”

He nuzzles her hand in an adorably innocent kitten like manner even as his hands wander in a decidedly _non_ -innocent direction. He hums as she arches her neck in invitation. “Do you know what today is?”

“So far it’s quite lovely.”

He smiles against her jaw. “We’ve been married for three months.”

Slowly, her nightgown slips up her legs in short, gentle tugs. James’ heated skin brushes against her thighs. _Seven hells_ he’s a devil.

“Is that so?”

Her voice is entirely too breathy as his questing fingers leave all thoughts of innocence behind. 

James’ answer is a low growl. “And we are quite alone for the day.”

“Sirius?” Lily asks, eyes drifting shut as her lips part in a sigh. 

Suddenly she’s on her back with James hovering overhead, linens twisted around them and his body a hard line along hers. “Perhaps refrain from using other people’s names in our bed?”

Which is a silly request, out of context at least, since they regularly discuss all sorts of business in their bed. But the low tone of his request, the heavier than normal accent that lilts his words, and Lily can’t really bring herself to nitpick. 

Especially when he kisses his way down the front of her nightgown and nudges the hem up to her rib cage. 

Or when he descends lower and tugs meaningfully at her garment until she lets it fall to the floor in a gauzy heap. 

His shoulders are broad and muscled as he works, worships each inch of her skin and sends her somewhere out of body. 

After - it could be seconds or years she’s not quite sure - James works his way back up until they’re face to face looking like the cat who got the cream. 

“Don’t smirk at me like that, sir,” Lily grumbles, her fingers twirling his curls absently. 

He leans forward to kiss her jaw and collapses over her, face buried in the pillows. 

As the sun rises, sending golden beams across the plus bedspread, Lily works James’ shoulders. 

“You know this just won’t work,” she pauses until taking his muffled response as invitation to continue, “If you want to _take care_ of things you can’t be a no good lump.”

And just to ensure he fully grasps her meaning, Lily subtly rolls her hips. James gasps against her throat and swears - at least she’s fairly certain it’s a swear. Language gap and all. 

His hands return to her hips as she fiddles with the tie at his waist, earning a groan when her fingertips brush his sensitive skin. “ _Lily_.”

She hums. “Yes my love?”

Then he’s flipped them over, bed creaking beneath as she’s set on display for all the world to see. It’s lucky they've got the house and property to themselves for the day. So far it certainly hasn’t been a quiet morning. 

Lily lets her fingers tease over his bare chest, toying with his sparse hair and mapping each scar and sinew until she works her way further south. And pauses. 

“Don’t tease a poor old man,” James groans, looking too adorably puppy like for someone she is about to ravish. 

Quirking her brow, Lily begins working the tie of his trousers loose and before long they’re both bare. Years later and he still takes her breath away like the first time they met in a cold, dark cave. 

Though he was equally as caught up, James’ patience runs out and he nearly unseats her with a tilt of his hips. Instead she tips forward and their foreheads knock together. 

“ _Ouch_ \- can we avoid concussing ourselves?”

“Can we - ” James wriggles his brow and grins at her. 

Adorable. Tempting. _Very_ tempting. 

She does as he asked, or hinted, their twin gasps muffled by the thick velvety curtains hung from the bedposts. 

Lily’s hands find the headboard as she tilts and twists and sighs while James’s grip on her hips tightens. “ _Lily_.”

He pulls her close, palms running slowly up her back until her lips are a breath away from his. Eyes half-lidded, Lily murmurs, “ _Iacomus_.”

With something like a growl, he arches into her, their dance lasting only a few more ragged thrusts until they’re both flushed, elated, and utterly spent. 

* * *

It’s over lunch - their first meal of the day despite their early waking - that Lily picks up their earlier conversation regarding anniversary plans. “If this morning is what I receive for three months, I can’t wait to see what you give me for our golden anniversary.”

James smiles soft and a little sheepish as he reaches across the table. “Well this morning wasn’t your gift - hopefully it won’t pale in comparison.”

Lily lifts his hand and presses a kiss to his calloused knuckles. “Quite hard not to but I have faith in your ability to outdo yourself. I _also_ have an additional gift.”

“Shall I go first?” James asks, taking a long drag from his glass. 

“But of course,” Lily says with a wink, “Can’t have you suffering the emotional turmoil of presenting yours _after_ mine has so outmatched it.”

Rolling his eyes, James rises and disappears for a moment. Presumably to the study given the length of time and the fact that he returns with a thick stack of envelopes. 

“Carrying on with the postmaster already? Our love is so young,” Lily jokes, even as she tries to spy the contents of the letters.

James reclaims his seat, pushing his empty plate aside and clearing his throat importantly. “ _These_ represent negotiations for an upcoming excursion to the location of your choice, provided there’s something historic and possibly fantastical for us to get caught up in.”

Unable to control her whoop of excitement, Lily jumps from her seat and embraces James before disappearing from the room. She calls out, “You are never going to guess - ”

“I take it you’ve got a compatible gift?”

She returns quickly enough, her own paperwork in hand, suddenly feeling a sting of hesitance. It had felt like such a lovely idea before James was staring at her with his untucked shirt and wide fawn colored eyes and those silly crooked glasses. Now, now it just feels like she’s about to crush him. “It - it’s a complicated gift.”

Smiling gently, because for all his years as a battle hardened warrior and his cheekiness to boot, James is the softest, sweetest man she’s ever known. “Come here, my love.”

He doesn’t relent until she’s perched on his knee, papers propped on her lap. James is patient, letting her work things through with no interference but his steady hand on her back and occasionally wandering eyes. 

Finally, Lily takes a deep breath and begins, “I thought - this seemed like a loving, thoughtful gift at the time but now. I won’t be offended if you say it’s out of line.”

“Darling.”

Lily pauses. “Yes?”

“I may seem a soft touch, but I can handle a bit of turmoil - emotional and otherwise.”

With a sigh, Lily presses her forehead to his and lets her eyes drift closed. “You recall my secretive research project?”

James hums.

“I - ” Lily pauses, toying with the paperwork in her lap, “I found your parents - where they’re. Where they are. I know we found details before, but now you could go pay your respects. _We_ could.”

He stiffens, but rather than pushing Lily away like she’d feared, his grip tightens as he drags her closer. “You’d use your gift for - there must be something more enjoyable.”

“Remember to whom you are speaking. I am a historically inclined research librarian with a millenia-old warrior for a husband,” Lily cuts in.

Laughing, James presses a kiss to her forehead and melts into her touch. “Don’t make me sound like an aging relic - need I remind you how virile I remain?”

“I would not say no.”

* * *

“James will like it,” Sirius says, voice heavy with that sickly sweet tone he uses when he _really_ wants something that doesn’t seem likely, “It’s like a Dionysia.”

“I didn’t attend when it _was_ a Dionysia,” James drawls, eyes not leaving the book in front of him, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

Lily surreptitiously eyes Sirius, who - for all his blustering - seems genuinely disappointed to be out a companion for the evening. “Perhaps you should go.”

James looks up at her, marking his page blindly. “I don’t particularly wish to attend - especially since you’re not invited.”

“Ladies very rarely are, love,” Lily smiles, “At least the worst that will take place at this particular ‘gentleman’s club’ is a bit of drunken revelry.”

His grin is lopsided as he rises and presses a kiss to her brow. “Alright, but I am giving myself a midnight curfew.”

“It will be at least two before we are home, my good Iacomus.”

After sharing a commiserating glance with LIly, James turns to Sirius, “What does one wear to such an event?”

The following three quarters of an hour were spent in a mix of dressing and dragging James from his reading in the library - he says his life deprived him of the finer things for too long to allow literature to be neglected now - until finally the pair disappeared in Sirius’ hired carriage.

That had been ages ago, or at least it felt so, and Lily has realized she’s no longer quite as comfortable alone as she had been. Each new note she makes on her research feels a little diminished without being able to prod James with her pen and share, her tea cools without someone there to top it off, and dinner goes entirely neglected until her stomach rumbles angrily at half past ten. 

Eventually, she settles with an egg over hard and a few triangles of toast in the kitchen and a new novel in hand so time passes a little faster. By the time she’s tidied up, Lily finds her eyelids drooping and readies herself for bed, sheets too cool on her own.

She can only toss and turn for so long before giving up and flicking the lamp on to a low glow to read by. And luckily, she hasn’t lost the ability to get entranced by a well crafted story so before she knows it the front door is slamming open to the tune of raucous laughter.

Followed by shushing. “ _Sir-Sirius_.”

Oh, James is drunk.

“Iacomus.”

“Why - ”

Fairly quickly, James devolves into a slurred question that is definitely _not_ in English. He is _very_ drunk. The front door falls shut, if the thud is anything to go by, and soon one pair of feet are shuffling through the hall and toward the bedroom.

James stumbles his way in, collar crooked and tie loose, and Lily being _alive_ can’t help but take in the whole enticing tableau. His hair, slicked back for polite company, has begun falling from its coiffe so ringlets fall messily around his face and his glasses sit precariously low on the tip of his nose. 

As her eyes drag lower, she finds the first buttons on his shirt have been loosened and watches as he jerks himself free of his suit coat revealing those _shoulders_ and his suspenders. Which are surprisingly attractive for a purely practical garment piece.

With unexpected deftness for the level of intoxication Lily presumed, James flicks the remaining buttons of his shirt open and does the same for his sleeves before dragging the suspenders from his shoulders so they dangle around his hips.

And then, he’s shirtless and golden in the lamplight and apparently unaware he has a _very_ attentive audience. 

Or so she thought.

“Enjoying the view?”

She may flush, but he is her husband and she’s entitled to a bit of self indulgence, so Lily sets her book aside and rises from the bed. “So far, it has been acceptable.”

He saunters closer until they’ve closed the distance between them and somehow Lily’s back is pressed to the dark patterned wallpaper. James flicks his curls back with a twist of his fingers. “I should hope there will be an opportunity for redemption.”

Lily lets her head tilt backwards as James begins teasing at her jawline with his lips. “Always - though it would seem you might not be up to the challenge this evening.”

“Sometimes, to outwit one’s opponent one must let him believe he has won,” James murmurs, popping three of her borrowed nightshirt’s buttons open in quick succession and letting his hot breaths follow the path. His eyes flash in recognition. 

“How devious,” Lily sighs, “You’re not too - ”

“I was raised on Greek revelry and libations,” James says as the last button on Lily’s front is worked free and her nightshirt drops to the floor in a heap, “Your modern _spirits_ are child’s play.”

Lily grins even as a shiver runs up her spine. “Well then - ”

Her retort is cut off with a groan as James hefts her up against the wall, his arms tensing beneath her legs. James’ mouth finds hers, the kiss long and deep before he pulls away, breathless, “Perhaps the time for talking has passed?”

Lily hums as James works his way down the long line of her throat, the closeness of his body to hers nearly taking her breath away. “But you - you love talking your way through _things_.”

One of James’ hands comes to grasp her closer while the other smacks flat against the wallpaper, inches away from her head. “ _Lily_.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re _taunting_ me.”

With a roll of her hips, Lily draws a strangled moan from James’ lips and grins, triumphant. “Glad to hear you’re finally - _ah_ \- catching on.”

Between the two of them, fumbling hands and all, James’ trousers are worked open just enough. “Choose your next words carefully, my love.”

Lily drags her hands over his chest, not too proud to acknowledge her trembling fingers as they link around James’ straining neck. 

Using the leverage she’s gained, Lily brings them _just_ shy of exactly what would be most pleasing and nips at James’ ear. “I know what I want right now, and there’s nothing _careful_ about it, _Iacomus_.”

Taking her invitation for what it is, James lets out a grunt and shifts to close the last space between them.

Lily muffles her shout against his shoulder, kissing her way up to his neck as he shifts and sends a _zing_ of pleasure through to her toes. 

In her shock, Lily bites at his corded neck, leaving a welt and surprisingly winning a pleased growl from James as his hand thuds against the wall. 

Despite herself Lily manages a laugh, strained though it is, and soothes the nip with a kiss. “Enjoyed that, did you?”

James grunts, pressing closer to murmur into her ear, “You should not toy with me right now.”

Lily sighs, “Oh I very much think I should.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello here's your AU update for the day :)

It’s hours later, though the moon is still wide and bright overhead, that Lily wakes abruptly. Her dreams had been nonexistent, mind blissfully clear and body relaxed and sated. 

At first, it’s not particularly clear what’s roused her until James tenses at her side, his brow knit and his hands clenched into fists. Gently, she lets her cool fingertips soothe his tight jaw, brush the mark she left on his neck hours earlier, until he lets out a whimper that turns to the most gut wrenching moan she’s ever heard. 

Now, it’s clear he won’t be calmed in his sleep so she grasps his jaw between her palms and says his name once, twice, then the third time much louder.

He startles and jolts onto his back, nearly kneeing her in the ribcage.

Kneeling at his side, Lily brushes his sweat dampened curls back from his forehead, her other hand resting over his pounding heart. “Darling.”

James’ eyes are wide, almost unseeing like he’s still trapped in whatever dream tormented him, and then he’s clutching her tighter than he ever has and dragging her to his chest.

His body trembles beneath her, heaving like there should be tears but his face remains dry and his throat is hoarse when he whispers, “ _Lily.”_

“James,” she murmurs back, brushing his cheek with the back of her knuckles as she settles against him more comfortably. 

The moonlight casts his vibrant golden skin in a pale blue glow, throwing the scars that litter his chest into brilliant relief. Lily traces them absently, giving him a moment to gather himself despite the urge to pepper him with endless questions.

“Usually I wake first,” he finally says, hazel eyes wide and childlike, “That’s why - ”

“You wake like this often?”

James’ gaze darts away, which means he’s likely about to bend the truth. “Not - most mornings I just wake from your snores.”

“Do not try to distract me with erroneous accusations,” Lily shoots back, though she is glad to see the tension leaving his face. Still, his grip hasn’t loosened. 

With gentle hands, Lily coaxes him into releasing her and drops onto her back, dragging him so his curls brush her jaw while his fingers run circuits over her bare skin from hip to collarbone. 

The physicality of it is far from unusual, though his intent is to set her alight on normal occasions. Tonight it feels like he’s mapping every bit of her, assuring himself she’s here, she’s real.

“It might help to talk about it,” Lily suggests softly, leaving an errant a kiss against his forehead.

He’s silent so long, Lily begins to assume he’s not ready to discuss it. He’s certainly not asleep, his hands continuing their movements and his breaths still measured and trying desperately to calm.

Finally, he nuzzles closer and begins. “About a year before - before the prophecy that is - we were under attack by what I later learned were Riddle’s preliminary forces.”

“You didn’t know?”

He hums. “They mimicked the style and dress of surrounding countries, engaged in small skirmishes so we wouldn’t realize what they were doing.”

“Weakening you slowly.”

James nods against her collarbone, his breaths finally steadying against her chest. “This was one of the worst - hundreds more than we expected, than the scouts had spotted. It was our first notion that they were using sorcery. First as camouflage and then on the battlefield.”

“Oh James.”

He shifts them until his head is rested on his own pillow, knitting their fingers and inching closer until their faces are a breath apart. And yet, his gaze seems a million miles away. 

“By that point, I was hardly new to battle - I had seen my fair share of horrors, earned enough scars that. Well as horrid as it sounds to say, I wasn’t shocked as I should have been anymore.”

Lily drags her top hand free from his grasp and cards her fingers through his dark locks, thumb brushing along his temple. He presses his lips to her knuckles and pulls the hand he still holds toward his chest.

“They just melted away - no hand to cling to, no wounds to mend, no body to bury.”

An angry tear slips down his cheek and Lily swipes it away, jaw aching with rage despite knowing Riddle’s well and truly gone, knowing they’ve won. It still doesn’t erase James’ heartache _thousands_ of years later.

“One minute, a man - strong and brilliant and kind is standing at your side and the next he’s melting away and seeping into the ground like so much rain. It was terrifying to watch, to see your friends, brothers really, taken away so abruptly and be left only with the knowledge that anyone could be next. We had no idea how targets were chosen.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Lily finally says softly, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

James shudders in her arms and tugs her toward him again, tight and unrelenting. His lips skitter over anything he can reach - hair, brow, shoulder, palm - but none of it is intended as a beginning. It’s more reassurances and Lily finally realizes what he must have dreamt.

“I was there.”

He freezes and nods against her sternum as she pushes up and rearranges the pillows haphazardly so her back can rest against the headboard.

“You - you were gone. But not really.”

“No, not really,” Lily agrees, leaving a brief kiss on his lips. A reassurance.

“And we are here, now. Alright.”

Lily tilts her head and nudges her nose against his. “Well that’s a question to consider. Are you alright?”

James takes a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers, studying the back of her hand as if he’s counting the freckles that litter her skin. “I am. And how about you - alright, Evans?”

She hums. “Yes. And I promise to protect you.”

His brows rise. “Protect _you_.”

Drawing him in for a lingering embrace, Lily presses her lips to his shoulder, draws in a deep breath. A filling her lungs with him, here, now, _safe_. “That is your job, eh?”

* * *

Fall turns to winter soon enough, until the holiday season is upon them. And in a flash, it’s Christmas Day, complete with a fresh blanket of snow. James took the helm in the kitchen, planning and preparing the meal with help from Sirius and Remus. The former could only be trusted with a knife if closely watched and the latter was banned from any and all assistance with dessert after James’ souffles were deprived of their chocolate flavoring one too many times. 

Lily simply bats her eyes and disappears into the library for ‘important research’ until she’s called to set the table. It’s been quite a lovely holiday.

She’s lost in the beautiful, dusty past held between leatherbound covers when James appears in the library doorway. He’s tousled with crooked glasses and a swipe of flour across his cheek when he peeks in. “Brunch is ready, m’lady.”

He sketches a bow, tea towel tossed over his shoulder and eyes sparking playfully and Lily can’t believe someone exists in the universe that can successfully tempt her away from research and she’s _happy_ to do it. 

Rising, Lily marks her page and boxes James in at the door frame. “You’ve got a little,” she cups his jaw and brushes at the white stripe with her thumb, “Something, just there.”

Her thumb falls to the corner of his parted lips so she feels his sharp inhale as Lily presses closer.

James tilts closer, letting his nose brush along hers. “Alright now?”

Lily nods, rising just a bit more so their lips touch as she answers, “Alright.”

With a groan, James obliterates the remaining distance and his lips find Lily’s, warm and heady as they pluck, stroke, and press. At this moment, Lily is _really_ considering dragging him back inside the library and acting out a particular long-held fantasy of hers involving her, James, and the surprisingly sturdy bookcase ladder. A feature she would like to _test_. For academic purposes.

Fantasies starring her strapping husband fade when mock gagging sounds from the corridor. “We are positively _famished_ out here and _you_ are being quite rude..”

Lily buries her face in James’ neck where his pulse hammers and he wraps his arms tighter around her. “You know I may be a ‘specky git’ and technically elderly but I am still fully capable of destroying you.”

“We all know you have gone quite soft, Iacomus,” Sirius teases, “Especially with your growing love for rich French pastry.”

“Don’t be a little arsehole,” Lily grumbles as she detangles from James. Which involves him releasing her leg to the floor. When did _that_ happen?

She doesn’t have time to consider that issue _or_ revisit the lovely way she so nearly ravished her husband on Christmas Day because Remus begins shouting about the cream sauce separating and James darts away like a panicked little deer.

Sirius threads his arm through Lily’s and guides her toward the dining room which they ensured was fully and admittedly gaudily decorated for the holiday. “He’s an odd little contradiction filled person, isn’t he?”

“Is that not something that could be said of us all?” Lily asks, her head leaning onto his shoulder.

He hums, thoughtful, before he answers. “Yes but he’s existed for millenia, _lived_ the same number of years as you and I, and yet he treats everything in our world like it’s brand new and utterly exciting.”

Lily can’t help the soft smile that teases her lips. It’s one of the things that most endeared her to James, that childish excitement he’d get about electric lights or running water or the rainbow lollies in the confectioner’s window. And at the same time he’d fight for her, for them and _has_ done it on more than one occasion. His kindness and capacity to love matched only by his fiercely protective and loyal nature.

Sirius sighs. “Oh you’re off getting soppy again, I see. I almost preferred the free show.”

Scoffing, Lily lands an elbow jab to his ribcage before they disconnect to claim places at the table now heavily laden with overfull tureens, bowls, and just about every serving platter they have between the four of them. “I for one am famished.”

“No helping can work up quite an appetite,” Remus says quietly with a mischievous twist of his lips.

“As can eating the mistakes, _sir_.”

James returns from the kitchen, slightly harried and bearing what appears to be the largest ham in the county while the three gathered around the table gape wordlessly.

“No more arguing unless you want your food privileges revoked.”

“Oh look at you _General_ , whipping out your archaic disciplinary tactics,” Lily teases, noting the flash in James’ eyes at her teasing title slip.

But it’s Christmas, the boys are here, and she really _is_ quite hungry, so the other type of hungry look will have to wait for brunch and whatever post-meal haze they enter after demolishing the veritable feast James prepared.

After, Lily prepares coffee - because she’s good for _something_ and definitely knows her caffeinated beverages - and Sirius orders Remus off to the sitting room to set up something to play on the Victrola. Remus sets out cups and an empty tray while Lily gathers milk and sugar along with a pot of coffee.

The milk cools their steaming cups quickly enough and they lie about like lumps, spread across the furniture in various states of repose. 

Lily’s just considering dropping her head into James’ lap to enjoy a lazy kip when the music switches to a jaunty sort of waltz and her eyes drift over the rest of their fouresom and linger on Remus. His eyes are a bit distant, wistful almost as he gazes out the window.

He must feel her eyes on him because he turns toward her and forces a smile. Which is decidedly unacceptable. 

So Lily rises and offers him her hand. “How about a dance?”

“Not quite in the right frame of mind.”

Her brow rises. “See that’s exactly why you _need_ to dance. Imagine how James will feel if he thinks you’re melancholy after that overdone _feast_ of a meal.”

Lily tugs Remus to his feet and sets her free hand on his shoulder while his finds her waist as their feet begin moving in a shoddy box step while Sirius jeers from his perch on the windowsill.

When Lily sends Remus out into a spin and tugs him back in for a dramatic dip, she glances up at Sirius. “Don’t be jealous Remus is a far better _danseur_ than you’ll ever be.”

Scoffing, Sirius stands and strides toward James where he dozes on the settee. “Excuse me, while you’re _having a kip_ Lily is making a play for Remus.”

James snuffles and rubs his eyes childishly while Sirius taps his foot. “Come on.”

He finally slaps his hand into Sirius’ palm. They join Remus and Lily on the makeshift dance floor and execute what an unbiased judge would admit was a high quality waltz which switches over to a two-step as the music dictates.

They swap partners after a few turns, until each of them has shared a dance and finally after a rousing gavotte, they collapse, sweaty and grinning.

After a moment, James adopts a cat-like demeanor and nuzzles into LIly’s lap. She follows through on his silent request, letting her fingers brush through his curls. “No fair, this was my plan for the afternoon.”

“Fortune favors the bold, my love.”

“Speaking of bold.”

Sirius chuckles. “Uh oh.”

Lily kicks at him uselessly and he barely cracks one eye open and smirks like he’s somehow _won_ because he decided to lie a few extra inches away from the settee on the carpet. Remus slumps further in his chair as Lily says, “I uh - I checked what exactly my certificate would be eligible for.”

James nuzzles against her middle. “Mhm?”

She clears her throat. “Who’s up for Marseilles?”

Stiffening, James twists onto his back and holds her gaze before he murmurs, “Is that where?”

She smiles at him, soft, and strokes his hair back from his forehead. “Yeah.”

Remus stands and wanders over to the fireplace, poking at the blaze aimlessly. He’s got that _look_ \- the ‘Remus is about to come up with a brilliant set of plans to execute Lily’s amorphous goal’ kind. “Well we’re not far from the ferry over to the continent, and I’ve got a mate in town who could get us on the train easily enough.”

“It’ll be lovely,” Lily says with a content sigh as James knits his fingers through hers.

Sirius gags again and throws his arm over his eyes. “ _Great_ a romantic train through the French countryside with a couple of _newlyweds_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notice there's another chapter to come :) some stuff in this one I'm excited for you to read!

Steam rises in full clouds from the train’s engine, as Sirius wheels their trunk-laden cart toward the passenger cars. Passengers, well wishers, and more than a few stern looking employees of the station ensuring the latter don’t ‘accidentally’ join the former.

Even living in this generation for almost half a decade, James still looks eager as a school child when faced with automobiles, trains, and steam ships. It’s adorable and honestly half the time Lily has to stop herself from gawking him as  _ he  _ gawks. Today, the jostling travelers and shouted calls from the conductor keep her relatively on track. Though the beauty of the day and the excitement of adventure mixed with James’ warm presence at her side gives her a heady  _ romantic _ feeling that is a bit overwhelming.

It’s nice to be overwhelmed in a positive way, particularly since the last week has been spent locked away trying  _ not  _ to cough up her innards from bloody seasickness while Remus and Sirius took the majority of their shipmates for a ride, ending their poker tournament with heavier pockets and a few new enemies in their lists.

Luckily, Sirius is not affected by such things - seasickness, James’ adorable nature, or potentially angry former shipmates - and guides the group toward their boarding place and hands over their tickets to be checked.

A porter helps them find their compartments - James and Lily to one, Sirius and Remus to the other - and deposit their belongings onto the shelves. By the time they’ve finished and the train is leaving the station, Lily’s leaning heavily against James’ arm - queasy and head aching.

His lips find her forehead. “All right, my love?”

Lily can’t quite suppress the pitiful moan that leaves her lips as James murmurs about her clammy forehead. Her eyes are closed but she hasn’t drifted off yet, head pillowed against James’ shoulder. 

Sirius and Remus have slotted themselves in on the bench opposite, mostly moaning about how much  _ smaller  _ their compartment is. James shifts, presumably to kick out at Sirius, and drags Lily closer. “Sorry, did I marry either of  _ you  _ nine months ago?”

“Only because you didn’t ask,” Remus sniffs.

Lily cracks her eyes open enough to see his smirk and Sirius’ responding chuckle. A small smile rises to her lips even as her stomach roils again.

She must let out a groan because soon James is shooing the boys away. “We are going to lie down.”

“Royal we, eh?” Remus says as he shoves Remus’ legs from his lap and makes for the door.

Lily opens one eye. “But we  _ are  _ a we.”

“What do you say Remus, perhaps  _ we  _ can find more enjoyable company elsewhere.”

The door slides shut and James slips the lock into place and begins pulling the bedclothes back while Lily slowly peels her travel clothes off her achy body.

When she leans forward to unbuckle her boots, the room spins and it feels as if she’ll resume her new  _ exercise  _ routine. “James, I hate to ask.”

He pauses with the bed halfway unmade and takes the two necessary strides to kneel at her feet. “Not to worry.”

Soon enough, she’s changed into soft pajamas - stolen from James’ trunk - and he’s lifting her into the suspended bed.

As the plush pillows cushion her head gently while James brushes hairs escaped from her plait back from her face. Slowly, Lily blinks her eyes open and James smiles down at her, eyeing the chains that hold the bed platform.

Lily laughs quietly. “I am afraid we will not be able to keep to our usual  _ routine _ .”

He winks, “Don’t be so unimaginative.”

She chuckles again, but goes quiet when James’ grin softens and his fingers continue their soft strokes. “What is it, Lily?”

Her hesitation means a lost chance to broach any sort of conversation with James when the door slams open, the lock chain hanging awkwardly while Remus nearly shouts, “I told him to leave you be.”

Sirius pays him no mind, reaching James side and grasping his shoulder. “They’re playing  _ cribbage _ in the club car. James, my boy, we can hustle them.”

Even in her discomfited state, Lily can see James’ excitement - add that to the list of things she finds disgustingly adorable about him - and honestly she should probably just  _ sleep _ . No need for James to linger while she does.

“Off you go, James,” Lily says with a smile, “Have fun, I’ll sleep whatever this is off.”

* * *

She sleeps soundly, a luxury that hasn’t been hers since they left England, until the door slides open and closed with a gentle clack of the useless chain. Once Lily blinks her eyes open, Lily sees James clumsily pocketing the compartment key and balancing a tray of something or other balanced in his other hand.

James grins and sets the tray down before turning up the lamp, warming the blue moonlight to golden. “Sleep well?”

Lily hums. “I sleep best on trains it seems.”

Slowly, because Lily still doesn’t trust her stomach and overall rebellious body, she sits up and twists so her legs hang suspended from the bed. She can practically  _ feel  _ the effort it takes James not to rush to her side like an overprotective mother hen, but he does allow himself the reassurance of settling a broad palm on the small of her back. 

As she takes her seat at the small shelf table tucked against the window, James lifts the lid on the tray and sits close to her on the bench. “I know it should pass, but I figured you weren’t looking for something heavy.”

Cautiously, Lily lifts a spoonful to her lips and takes a tentative drag. James watches her closely and Lily chafes with things unsaid, things she’s barely considered herself and now - the spoon falls from her hand with a clatter.

With a frown, James pulls her into his lap and pushes her hair back from her face. “My Lily never hesitates to speak her mind.”

Lily takes a deep breath. “I am - we are - we are going to have a  _ child _ .”

He freezes for half a second and Lily feels as though she’s just lept from a hot air balloon until he lets out a  _ whoop  _ that’s entirely too loud for this late in the evening. His eyes are brilliant with excitement and before she knows it, he’s got his arms banded around her middle as he leads them in a celebratory waltz around the compartment. Which incudes the expected bangs, bumps, and bruises.

When Lily’s laughter becomes to much, he lifts her as if she’s light as a feather and sets her atop the bed again, tugging at buttons and pulling at her borrowed nightclothes.

“James -  _ James _ .”

Heedless of her interruptions, James continues pressing kisses to every bit of skin he uncovers, only pausing to grin at her with a thousand times the power of the look he gives a train or a steamship. It’s the happiest she’s seen him and that’s when it finally hits her, the  _ reality _ of everything and she tries to drag his face to hers.

And still, James doesn’t comply with her prodding, only unbuttoning her shirt far enough to reveal her belly - still smooth and unchanged despite all that’s going on beneath.

“You can’t see anything, love.”

This finally catches James’ attention and he peers up at her, eyes wide behind smudged glasses. “When?”

Lily brushes back his curls and he complies when she pulls his face to hers. “I would guess, assuming my backward calculations are correct that it will arrive next summer.”

James kisses her, once, twice, and follows when she drags him over her and lets him slot between her legs while his arms surround her ribcage. He’s been this close to her countless times by now, shared her bed and her heart for long enough that Lily sometimes feels like they need each other to  _ breathe _ . But here, now, with his eyes lit and his cheeks flush with happiness, it feels like she’s truly learning him for the first time. She’s lived over a quarter of a century and James for endless ages longer and this is a true first for them both, a beautiful  _ real  _ life moment that Lily’d never dreamed. 

As James murmurs into her neck and twists so she’s sprawled across his chest, Lily’s pounding heart calms and even countless miles away she feels at home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! After a very long hiatus on this one I have an update. Good news/neutral news...there will be a part 5! I have some plot to wrap up as you’ll see. But we’ve got over 5k here for you with plot, fluff, romance, some sultry. Enjoy :)

Morning comes quickly, and Lily wakes in a tangle of limbs with James, his breath warm at her neck. It takes some maneuvering for her to twist around in his arms and wriggle her hand to his face.

James wrinkles his nose, slowly blinking awake as he tips his forehead down to hers. “Morning.”

Lily scratches at his scalp and cuddles closer. He brushes her hair back from her face with a soft smile. “How do you feel?”

“Alright, so far,” Lily sighs as his palms slip over her shoulders, slide over the sway of her back, linger at her hips, “Though I haven’t quite gotten to the whole  _ get out of bed  _ portion.”

“Or you’re supremely comforted by your kind, and dare I say dashingly handsome, husband’s presence,” James says with a smirk, nudging her forehead with the tip of his nose.

Groaning, Lily shifts onto her back and blinks up at him, face blank and gaze heavy with her  _ utter  _ lack of amusement. “I might retch just from your arrogance alone.”

Carefully, James pursues Lily until he’s cradled between her thighs, avoiding putting any undue weight on her in the process. “Is it truly arrogance,” he pushes her hair back and nips at her ear, “If the claims are true?”

His hands skate to her hips, drag their bodies together, and despite the catch in her breath, Lily doesn’t relent in her hard line of sarcasm. “Who says they are?”

Whatever response James might have drummed up is drowned out by three thudding knocks at the door. “Lovebirds - the world of polite company awaits.”

Lily snorts. “He can’t mean himself.”

James shifts, dangling off the side of the bed to fumble on the floor for one of his boots. He pulls himself back up and spares Lily a glance only to ensure he doesn’t elbow her in the face, and then lets the boot fly. “Off with you.”

“I  _ am  _ a little hungry,” Lily murmurs against his lips.

Growling, James slips his arms around her middle and tugs her close. “Then eat you must!” he’s halfway to hefting her over his shoulder when Lily’s wriggling finally wins out.

“I can still walk, you know.”

“Why should you, when you’re a  _ goddess _ ?” James answers, dancing her around the room to some barely coherent tune he hums.

He lifts her overhead, whirling them together until they finally collapse against the door in a fit of giggles. Lily tucks herself into his chest. “Imagine when I’ve got to wrangle you _ and _ our little one.”

“Don’t forget Sirius.”

Their joined laughter is a giddy wave that carries them through the process of dressing, and at James’ prodding a bit of  _ undressing _ \- until they’re finally presentable and make their way toward the dining car.

After quite a bit of teasing - no less than expected - they manage to order breakfast and tuck in before the subject seems to be ready for it’s debut. Or at least James thinks so, if his frequent and increasingly dramatic glances at Lily are any indication.

He’s so giddy and childlike she can’t even begin to entertain the idea of  _ not  _ following his prompting. “James and I are - there will soon be another member to our little family.”

Sirius’ grin spreads across his face while Remus simply blinks at her over the rim of his tea cup. After a moment, he sets it back town in the saucer with a quiet  _ clink. _ “So Sirius gets a baby brother?”

Lily lets out an unladylike snort - which doesn’t earn a second glance from her companions but does get a little haughty  _ sniff  _ from a table over - and James’ eyes sparkle with laughter. “I am the oldest of us.”

“I guess I have a  _ thing  _ for older men,” Lily murmurs against his cheek, before pressing a lingering kiss to his jaw.

Sirius mock coughs while Remus simply rolls his eyes. “So any ideas on names?”

“Something real modern,” James says with a teasing wink, “Perhaps Walburga for a girl.”

“Don’t even,” Sirius grumbles, “Pass the jam.”

“Cross millenium progeny,” Remus muses quietly once their nosy neighbor has left for the bar car, “This is the  _ second  _ wildest thing to happen during the annular eclipse.”

One of the staff trundles up with a cart, offering tea cakes that Lily eyes longingly before sharing a glance with Sirius. Perhaps he’s recalling that afternoon so long ago with growing hope, kindred spirits, and just enough recklessness between them to make all this…

Sirius locks eyes with Lily and his lips lift in a half smile before he nods to the woman, “We’ll take a bit of each, my treat.” 

* * *

After breakfast, it doesn’t take them long to move past giddy discussion of the new little explorer on the way and onto Remus’ mysterious reference to an annular eclipse.

Lily swipes the last petit four and bites into it with a groan that seems to distract James a bit, so Sirius is the one to usher the conversation along. “Remus, be a dear and enlighten the group on your... _ project _ .”

“You could explain it too,” Remus retorts, swiping a bit of strawberry sauce from his plate, “No need for the drama.”

The train trundles through an overpass, casting darkness over the crystal clear windows, though the golden lights inside keep them from pitch black. So Sirius doesn’t pause as he grasps their freshened teapot and tops off everyone’s cups. “You’re the expert, plus I get to do the fun things all the time - you’ve earned it.”

“Why thank you,” Remus drawls, dropping a bit of sugar into his warmed tea, “Seems we’ve got one vote in favor of getting the full exposition.”

James wraps his arm around Lily’s shoulders, fingers toying with the seam of her sleeve absently. “Let us in on it, then.”

“Always curious, this one,” Lily says with a smile as she reaches to squeeze James’ knee, leaves her hand there, “Not that I can point fingers regarding a thirst for adventure.”

The explanation starts off in vagaries, just as Remus’ inquiry had been. Just that ever present scholar in him, wanting to know the rumors, myths, and legends in the region they were set to visit. Plus a bit of healthy curiosity about James’ own history, his parents. 

Sirius orders a fresh pot of tea before things get to what he calls the ‘interesting’ bits. “Tell them about the elixir.”

“Do you want  _ me _ to tell it?” Remus frowns and Sirius quirks a brow but nods. “Then let me tell it.”

Lily hides her laughter behind her serviette while James murmurs teases to Sirius and earns a kick under the table. “Yes, sir,  _ please  _ favor us with your continued story.”

Though he scoffs, Remus does continue, revealing a long and bloody history around this elixir that allegedly extended life first for decades, and then if used properly, indefinitely. Remus glances at James. “Does the name Flamel mean anything to you?”

His grip on Lily’s shoulder flexes. “No - should it?”

Remus shakes his head. “Not particularly - it was likely after you - ”

“Flamel is a French name,” Lily cuts in with a gentle smile for Remus’ flounderings, “The acquaintance surely came later in life. I presume Flamel connects to James’ parents?”

“Smart as a whip,” Remus says, before he continues, “I believe they looked into possibilities because of their loss - not to live longer but to bring something  _ back _ .”

Lily feels the catch in James’ breath, feels him force the tightness from his hand at her shoulder. She reaches for the other beneath the table top and grasps it. “So they found Flamel, then what?”

“Your parents seem to have befriended Flamel and his wife, worked with them a bit. There’s not much record, but the connection is there if you’re looking for it.”

“And you were?” James asks.

“Well most people research to find out about Flamel, so your parents are one of dozens of connections,” Remus answers, “We come from the opposite direction, and Flamel is a stand out among a much smaller pool of acquaintances. Your father was a bit of an alchemist himself, yeah?”

“Tell them about the looters,” Sirius says, nudging Remus with his elbow.

“Sirius - have a little tact,” Lily chides when James stills, “Not everyone hates their families.”

For once, Sirius does look abashed, but Remus is quick to step in, “James’ parents graves have been left undisturbed as far as we are aware. It was the Flamel’s.”

And apparently, Sirius can’t really bear to let Remus deliver the final details, or perhaps he really  _ is  _ a dramatic because he interrupts, “Looking for the  _ elixir of life _ . Rumor was it had been buried with them, but there was no trace. Given your father’s connection with Flamel, their partnership of sorts…”

Lily narrows her eyes, “You think the elixir is buried with Euphemia and Fleamont?”

James nudges her hairline with his nose, hold never loosening as she continues, “We might find more concrete details locally.”

Sirius snickers, “So much for a romantic trip for the newlyweds.”

“Lily’s her most beautiful when she’s plotting some research or other.”

Sirius lets out a groan, “I knew this trip was a mistake.”

“Wait,” James says as they rise to return to their compartments, “What about the annular eclipse? Where’s the connection?”

Tossing his serviette down to the table, Remus shrugs, a mischievous grin on his face, “Just a bit of excitement - as far as I know that is. Eclipses are  _ intriguing  _ and a bit of a spooky thing, eh?”

“We’ll pretend we believe that,” James answers, “But only because my bride would like to return to our compartment.”

“Ugh,” Sirius grunts, “I hate you.”

* * *

The station in Marseilles is a hub of activity, travelers bustling through white steam, busy porters, and that almost tangible excitement of going... _ anywhere _ . Lily accepts James' offered arm, her wedding band glinting in the sunlight, while Sirius pushes the cart bearing their trunks through the crowd. 

Remus manages to hire them a cab quickly enough, and soon they’re heading toward their hotel at a steady clip, window shades thrown wide to let the fresh sea air fill the compartment.

Lily takes a deep breath in and sighs on release. “I know we’ve got our academic and adventurous pursuits on this trip but can we at least enjoy a bit of the setting along the way?”

Sirius pokes his head out the window, squinting at the sun. “You three are the ones lusty for dust ridden books and whatever else.”

“Don’t kid yourself Sirius,” James says with a grin, “You’re just as lusty as the rest of us.”

“He’s got a thing for  _ spending _ ,” Remus chuckles, earning a pinch to his arm.

“Such gratitude for your benefactor,” Sirius sniffs, “Watch if I pick you as our guide next time.”

“As if anyone else could tolerate you three,” Remus says with another laugh, “Or you’d trust a random guide with grandpa over here.”

When James harrumphs, Lily drags him closer and rests her head against his shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, you’re a gorgeous, ancient fox.”

The carriage jostles to a halt and the driver tugs the door open for the foursome. Sirius and Remus exit first, with James following only to turn back and offer Lily his hand. They share a soft smile, lost to the world, and Sirius groans. “Why do  _ we  _ get growls and grunts for teases about your age but she just gets doe-eyed adoration?”

“Are you having my child?” James asks, eyes never leaving Lily’s as she picks her way down the steps.

Their driver studiously avoids eye contact as he lifts their trunks from the cab with the bellman. Lily has to bite back a smile as Sirius murmurs, “Well you never asked.”

* * *

“You really are an odd thing, Lily,” Sirius muses, polished boots  _ click-clacking _ on the cobbled street.

“Thank you?”

A swift wind off the sea nearly takes her hat as they cross the final intersection before the library. Her free hand lifts to hold the straw bonnet in place while the other remains firmly in the crook of Sirius’ arm. 

Once they reach the library doors, Sirius drags it open and gestures Lily inside before his whispered reply, “You spending the first  _ real  _ day of your honeymoon in Marseilles with me, your ‘brother’ to research your husband’s dead parents’ involvement with the  _ spooky  _ alchemy.”

“Life extending alchemy,” Lily corrects, “No ghosts or spectres here.”

Though they’re both proficient enough in French, Sirius’ accent is much more refined and thus arouses less suspicion - aside from the whole ‘man escorting a woman’ bit that works in the same way - so she lets him take the lead. Even though it chafes.

Once he’s gotten them permission for browsing, learned how to request books, etcetera, they head for the local history room and begin their search. 

It’s hours before they begin hitting exactly what they’re looking for, details on burials in the right span of years. Tracking down the Flamels is much simpler and there’s a lot more detail about their lives  _ pre  _ death. Including some speculation and actual accounts of their alchemical experiments.

“Sirius,” Lily whispers, nudging him beneath the table, “Do you know anything about Flamel’s personal library?”

“As in journals?”

“Journals, notes, anything from his research library,” Lily elaborates, continuing to scan the page, “I think we can find out more about this elixir he worked on.”

Sirius nods, “Might do to get some books on alchemy and eternal life myths as well.”

They split tasks between them, Lily’s arms aching with the weight as she stacks book after book against her chest. Until finally, the load is heavy enough that she ends up propping them against her hip and pauses her search. It’s not as though she can read  _ all  _ of them at once. Try as she might.

Sirius already has three books spread across the table in front of him, a fourth in his right hand while the left pulls bits of smuggled biscuit from his pocket.

“You’ll get caught and we’ll be thrown out.”

“Not if you keep your voice down,” Sirius murmurs, brushing the crumbs from his fingers.

Rolling her eyes, Lily reclaims her seat and drags a fresh sheet of parchment closer as she wriggles her hands and prepares for more hours of cramming her writing onto the page in careful loops. “Shame Remus and James are no help with French.”

Sirius hums. “Though this way we get to share just the information we like.”

“That’s not how marriage works.”

“And this matters to me?” Sirius whispers, “And don’t roll your eyes at me again, they’ll be stuck that way.”

Lily cracks open a book gently and turns to the appendices. “James would understand.”

Quiet hangs between them, nothing but the sound of Lily’s pen scratching across the blank page, Sirius flipping through each tome in turn. Until he asks, “So you really tell him everything? Isn’t that - grating?”

“It’s a relief,” Lily says after a moment, “I look forward to sharing it with him, it’s no burden.”

“Quite unrelatable, that feeling,” Sirius says, “Secrets are the air I breathe, the youth elixir to my ever-beautiful face. But really - no secrets?”

She hums, thoughtful as she flips to a new page. “There was something, back in December.”

Sirius perks up, like a dog sniffing out a bone. “Go on.”

“Remember how mice got at the last of the mince pies?”

His grin could be seen from the top of St Paul’s. “ _ Yes _ .”

“It was a rather large, red-haired mouse,” Lily adds, “And James never knew.”

“You  _ lied _ ,” Sirius gasps, “As a newlywed. Horrors never cease.”

* * *

They share Sirius' stashed biscuits and manage to get wrapped up enough in their studies that their midday meal comes and goes without notice. It’s no surprise given what they…

Lily’s mind is filled with translations of half formed apologies, open ended interpretations, and a horrible feeling in her gut. It’s all she can think of - all other concepts flitting in and out of her head. Food leaves her mind altogether, until Lily faints and nearly falls from her chair.

As she blinks away the blur, Sirius’ worried face looms overhead. “Shit.”

The librarian blusters, waving her handkerchief and letting out indistinct but clearly distressed noises. “Sirius you’ll get us expelled.”

“You’re the one with all the fainting dramatics. Academics can’t handle this type of excitement.”

Lily sits forward on the chaise, apparently having been moved to some musty back office, and droops back against SIrius’ chest woozily. “Hell. Don’t tell James?”

“What about absolute truthfulness?”

“This falls very firmly in stolen mince pie territory,” Lily grumbles, getting a hand hold on the back of the settee and pulling herself upright. 

While she breathes, long slow inhale, even slower exhale, Sirius retorts, “You know there are gentlemans’ obligations of truthfulness.”

“Since when are you a gentleman?”

Sirius sniffs.

“Or a subscriber to social mores?”

As she rises to her feet, Sirius slips a protective arm around her shoulder and guides her toward their gathered belongings. “I liked you better unconscious.”

_ Alégō. _

The word haunted her, ringing at the back of her head and rendering most of her afternoon after finding that stupid postscript of a notation on what she’s fairly certain is what passed for a last will and testament back in James’ time. Her explorations of the local histories and journals led to death records and then - there it was.

Sirius tried to reason with her, or as she called it, stretch reality until it was completely unrecognizable. And here she was pregnant, full of emotions she really is  _ not  _ enjoying, and trying to decide just how ominous that word could really be.

All in the wake of her proclamations about  _ truthfulness  _ with James.

Not that she’d hide something like this, or that she’d have reason to. James is their best source on interpretation of the text, both as a native speaker and the closest connection to Fleamont and Euphemia. Maybe Sirius was right. There was plenty to regret with James gone.

But the whole mournful script felt like an  _ apology _ . Like the sadness was ongoing, even beyond their deaths.

Even now, the feeling weighs heavily on Lily.

She swipes the escaped tears from her eyes, forehead leaned against the window and curtains thrown wide so the fresh sea air fills her lungs.

The carriage comes to a halt outside the hotel, bellmen coming to their aid almost comically fast, and definitely too quickly for Lily to get her emotions fully dealt with before coming face to face with one.

By dipping her head, Lily manages to hide her face beneath the straw brim of her hat, letting Sirius handle the machinations of their return to the hotel. Once they enter the cool, marble floored interior, Lily takes Sirius’ arm. “I should like a night alone with James.”

He hums.

“I would make that more of a request, but we  _ are  _ married and I feel if I give you too much leash to control my schedule this trip you’d have entirely too much fun,” Lily says with a smirk, “Can’t let all that power go to your head.”

“So ungrateful - have you considered I financed your marriage?” Sirius chuckles, “Practically dowried you.”

“You hired me for a chance at adventure,” Lily retorts, “And now you’ll arrange dinner for myself and my husband.”

“What a soft touch I turned out to be,” Sirius sighs as he guides Lily over to the lifts. “Head on up - James should be there already.”

Lily frowns, confused as she steps onto the lift. “But he and Remus - ”

“My compatriot and I plotted to ensure at least one honeymoon-esque evening, if only to ensure  _ we  _ weren’t forced into an entirely swotty holiday in the Riviera.”

Sirius walks away with a wink, whistling as he slips his hands into his pockets. “Have a lovely evening, my dear  _ sister _ .”

The lift clatters its way up two levels, the operator offering Lily a stiff nod as he slides the gate open and waits for her to exit. Sun-rosied cheeks cool the longer she enjoys the luxe hotel, plush carpets cushioning her heels that had click-clacked in the foyer.

By the time she’s reached their room, Lily’s worked the buttons on her gloves free and already pulled her hat pins from her hair. It’s only a rapidly decreasing sense of propriety that keeps her from beginning to loosen the stays of her dress.

After fishing the heavy key from her purse, Lily drags the lock open and pushes inside and continues her work at freedom from the constraints of her stuffy clothes. It’s something she has not missed in her little corner of the world, the pressures and demands of  _ civilized  _ society. Which often seems more like a way to control the masses and keep women stiff, quiet, and docile. Lily’s never enjoyed fitting any of those descriptors.

“Lily?”

Lily smiles and drops her hat, indiscriminate and uncaring, already moved on to freeing her poor pinched toes. “I’m home love.”

“Excellent timing,” James says, emerging from the little parlor and drawing her into his chest, “Remus’ arrangements for our dinner have just arrived.”

“Matchmaking a married couple with a child on the way,” Lily laughs, “Seems a bit overzealous, eh?”

James begins pulling pins from her hair, one by one,  _ teasing _ . “I have no arguments if we are gifted a night alone and guaranteed free of interruptions.”

And just as Lily begins to relax into his arms, let the tension drift from her body bit by bit, James moves them further into the suite. “First, before anything more  _ carnal _ \- we satisfy our required appetites.”

“Hm, that felt rather important,” Lily grumbles, even as she discards her overdress and loosens her corset with sharp tugs, distracting James  _ exactly  _ as she’d hoped.

He blinks away the fog in his eyes and points an accusing finger her way, “None of that - we feed you and the little one. After you get comfortable.”

James turns and begins lifting covers from their dishes, setting aside the polished metal lids with deft movements. Lily lifts her petticoats overhead, tosses them over the back of a chair and walks toward the wardrobe in just her chemise, letting the loose collar slip low. “James.”

He hums.

Lily smirks. “How comfortable?”

“As - “ James turns and loses track of his thought for a moment, “As comfortable as you like.”

Her brow rises, coy. “Well I think the same should apply for you,  _ Iacomus _ .”

A spectrum of emotions flutter across his face and settle on mischief. The exact mischief she hoped to stir, the type that will lead to a long, slow build.

James flicks his suspenders from his shoulders, slips the buttons on his sleeves free, does the same for his shirtfront. All while maintaining careful, heated eye contact with Lily. “Only fair, I suppose.”

Lily does the same, perching on the edge of the settee to carefully draw the hem of her chemise upward, and slowly roll her stockings down to reveal her legs bit by bit. “Only fair.”

Supper is a blur of heated glances, fresh bread, decadent dishes, and the only thing in sharp relief is the steady weight of James eyes, always on her, always warm.

The last of her souffle eaten, Lily turns her attention back to her husband, his curls wild and unkempt, glasses crooked, and decidedly boyish overall. That sly grin only made worse by the bit of chocolate caught at the corner of his mouth.

Lily rounds the table and leans into James’ space, her hands grasping either arm on his chair. His head tilts back to follow her movements as she slowly tips in, kiss soft and seeking as she swipes the chocolate from his lip, chasing the taste of him underneath it all. No matter how long she’s had him, every day feels borrowed, or even in a better mindset, like a gift. Feels like she can’t waste a minute of it with hesitation or anything less than devoted pursuit of everything they are together.

His hands come to grasp her waist so he can lift her into his lap, remarkably un-clumsy in the process, particularly since his mouth never leaves hers. And when it does, it’s only to groan her name.

She sighs his in response, slipping his shirt from his shoulders so it catches on the chair back. He shoves them back from the table so Lily can readjust, knees bracketing his thighs while his palms slip up her spine.

They only break apart so he can discard her chemise, take in the miles of revealed skin like he’s never seen it before, like she’s precious.

Lily’s long overcome the inclination to blush and instead finds herself mapping each inch of his skin, fingertips tripping over each scar, line, or wrinkle that decorates his body, lips following haphazardly until her hands rest over his waistband. “Off.”

James pauses his ministrations, the strokes, tweaks, and squeezes dragging her to madness, and does as she asks even as he laughs at her pout. “Such a princess you are.”

Lily licks her lip as she watches him undo the buttons, rising on her knees when he lifts his hips to remove the last barriers between them. “I know what I like, and what I want.”

“Is that so?”

She nods as her hands explore the newly revealed skin and draw a moan from his lips. “I see no reason to deny it. Particularly when the likes and wants are so very mutual.”

His chuckle turns to a pant against her neck as he lays wet kisses across her shoulder, down her arms, sporadic until he lingers at her chest.

Lily presses forward, leaning into the delicious rasp as she readies for their joining. James’ teeth nip at her dusky skin when she squeezes teasingly. The moan ripped from her throat reverberates against the walls. “ _ James. _ ”

As the sun truly sets, their bodies are lit only in golden shards from the dying glow of the fire as it crackles in the gilded hearth. Lily rises to her knees once again, this time noting their reflections in the mirror over the fireplace, her swollen lips and debauched expression, his rippling back and hair set even more wild by her desperate tugs.

She can barely breathe as she sinks down and James swears against her collarbone, already marked by his earlier explorations. Her back arches and James keeps his grasp on her hips, letting her take what she likes as he adores her with every press of his lips.

Her pace increases with the rapid beat of her heart and soon James can’t bear their setup any longer, banding one arm around her waist and standing so quickly she barely has a moment to grasp his shoulders, wrap her legs around his hips.

Lily’s first thought was the bedroom, that luxurious bed waiting to caress their bare skin, but as tempting as it sounds she’s on the precipice and it feels like she almost can’t fathom the idea of waiting any longer than necessary. 

And apparently James is of the same mind as he simply strides over to the chaise and lays her back against the brocade seat, never letting their bodies separate even as he lifts his knee to the cushion and pushes forward once, twice, a third time, lifting her hips and tossing his head back. “Lily.”

He growls and suddenly he’s looming over her, their faces a breath apart as he mutters broken phrases against her lips and drives them both over the edge, her hands grasping at him, both desperate for nearness.

Once Lily nearly shouts out a loud  _ ah _ , tugs his hips closer, lets her nails bite into his glistening skin, James’ movements become faster and more erratic until he lets out a strangled groan and droops against her while their heartbeats slowly calm.

James attempts to pull away, but Lily tightens her grip and guides him to lie behind her against the chaise back. “Not so fast.”

He grasps her waist. “You’ll fall.”

Lily nuzzles against his chest. “Guess my svelte husband will just have to hold me close and not let go.”

Having him close, close as they could be, was something Lily craved like her next breath and she could hardly bear to let him drift away. Especially after today’s findings, however vague, that felt like an expiration date set on life as she knew it. It was odd, feeling such fear, trepidation, when nothing had really changed. There was no study, no academic pursuit she could rest in - the fear came from a damn  _ feeling _ . And feelings relent in the face of carefully reasoned arguments.

It’s quiet, save the crackle of the fire, when James tightens his arms around her and murmurs, “You’ll catch cold.”

Lily hums as James’ fingers find her hair, pulling through the strands from root to tip.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“We were pretty vocal not long ago,” Lily says, her laugh a bit hollow. And of course James doesn’t let it go. She wouldn’t.

“Lily.”

“ _ James _ .”

Gently, he guides her chin upward so they can somewhat awkwardly hold eye contact. “Let me in on whatever’s troubling that brilliant mind, eh?”

Breaking away from his hold, Lily hides her face in his neck and busies her nervous fingers with drawing lines between the scars that litter his chest. “I found more about your parents, about their - it was something like a last will and testament. I will show you all of it, of course. But they used a word -  _ alégō. _ ”

James doesn’t move and keeps her held close so she can hear his heart thud in his chest, feel his breathing stutter.

“I should’ve told you right away.”

He sucks in a breath. “We were a little occupied, my Lily.”

And before she can argue, he continues, “My knowing now or four hours ago - nothing would be changed. It’s been thousands of years. What are a few hours to all that time?”

Lily sniffs and swipes at her eyes, though she can’t help but tease him. “Even with your considerable abilities, I don’t think we reached four hours, love.”

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “I was including  _ dinner _ .”

She runs her hand up his chest and into his hair, rubbing at his scalp. “In all seriousness, it’s - we’ll need you to look it over. We’re not really positive on the meaning, the implications.”

James sits up and lifts Lily to follow, her legs thrown over his lap, and kisses her long and deep. “I swear I will,” another press of their lips, “ - can we just have tonight?”

Lily touches her forehead to his and laughs wetly, “You talk like I’m a slave driver.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone, you are,” James says with a fond grin.

She hums and nips at his neck, her hands dipping to tease him, “Not always a bad thing, yes?”

“I suppose not,” James grunts as she shifts in his lap.

“That’s what I thought.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final installment of this one...though I doubt this AU will ever be officially over. I'm a sucker for it
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Morning breaks and Lily rises with the brightening sun, its rays warm and enticing as they slide over the crashing waves of the sea. James resists her movements in his sleep, arm tightening around her middle before she’s finally able to slip free. He recovers easily enough from her departure, dropping onto his back and tossing one arm overhead, still welcomed into slumber’s embrace.

He really does make her too poetic, Lily muses as she picks her way across the room, searching their strewn garments until she settles on his shirt and slides it over her arms. 

James’ musky scent surrounds her as she peruses the room, fully taking in the overdone, gilded decor that is  _ exactly  _ what she’d expect when Sirius acts as travel organizer. She catches a glimpse of herself in a wide mirror rimmed in gold and finds her skin a bit more rosy than usual, her eyes wide and bright, and eventually, her gaze falls on the freshly bloomed bruise on her collarbone. 

The sight sends a rush of heat through her as she recalls James’ panted supplications, the sharp sting of his teeth against her skin as he groaned her name. 

He really should wake up soon.

With a sigh, she pushes aside the ever increasing desire to interrupt her husband’s rest and wanders toward a long red rope dangling from the ceiling. Vaguely, she recalls some instruction about summoning an employee of the hotel from the individual guest rooms and figures this must be as good a shot as any at getting something flaky and delicious delivered to their doorstep.

Whatever they bring, she’s willing to sacrifice specific food related desires for other important considerations, like she and James remaining cloistered and private as possible for as long as possible. 

The hollow bell that rings from somewhere far off serves the dual purpose of signaling Lily’s success at summoning  _ something  _ and managing to wrestle James from his sleep. If only just barely.

His voice is low and rough when he murmurs a ‘Good morning’ and shifts under the sheets to find her, face twisted in a frown when he finds his search fruitless. “Why’re you all the way over there?”

“Curious about our accommodations,” Lily shrugs, silently pleased at the darkening look he gives as his eyes follow the bits of skin she’s left bare, “In search of sustenance.”

He fumbles his glasses on and sits up. “Right, we’ve got to keep you fed and rested. Hell I was too - too much last night.”

James’ mutterings devolve into a mix of English and language that likely hasn’t been spoken in centuries so Lily can only just grasp his general meaning. “You were  _ fine  _ \- even at your most - demonstrative you are ever the gentle lover.”

“I tossed you about quite a bit, Lily,” James says, throwing the covers back and affording her a view she finds quite satisfying as he searches for trousers. 

Lily bites her lip and offers, “They might be dangling from the chandelier.”

His brow furrows and then James’ eyes follow Lily’s guidance and he flushes. Nevermind that they both had a hand in the utterly debauched appearance of the suite. Or that they’ve come to know just about every bare inch of each other. He can be so proper at times, for a man who’s come from an era allegedly less repressed than her own.

James rises on tiptoe and pulls the garment from the chandelier. By the time he’s drawn the second side over his leg, there’s two sharp knocks at the door and he stumbles his way to answer. “You may want to make yourself scarce.”

“I am quite scandalous this morning,” Lily says with a smirk, “Though we are quite thoroughly married. I’m no scarlet woman.”

She’s leaning with her shoulder propped against the wall, one bare leg crossed over the other while her borrowed shirt barely disguises her form when James strides over and hisses in her ear, “If you stay out here, I will hardly be able to keep my head. I don’t particularly fancy anyone else being privy to the way I look at you.”

“You look at me all the time, love,” Lily says, innocent and deliberately obtuse.

James darts both hands beneath her shirt and draws her close, palms pulling her up toward him while he slants his mouth over hers in a warm, wet kiss. After a head spinning kiss, he murmurs against her lips. “You know very well what I mean,  _ kokéta _ ,” another knock at the door, “Now go pretend to freshen yourself while I usher our guest out as quickly as possible.”

“I don’t like being ordered about.”

“Sometimes you do,” James shoots back with a wink, “Now off you go.”

Lily rolls her eyes but does as he asks and after a brief interchange, she hears the door to their suite click closed. “All clear, Lily.”

His back is to her as he examines the savory and sweet dishes piled atop a shined golden breakfast cart, so Lily wanders over and presses her chest against his back. “I’m hoping our meal will be a quick affair.”

James hums, already filling two plates. “So long as you agree to dessert.”

“For breakfast - ”

Lily’s question trails off as he uncovers a dish full of whipped cream, or considering where they are, creme fresh. In answer, she swipes a finger through the stiff peaks and drags it across her tongue. “Why of course, what else are holidays for?”

It’s only much later, when they’ve made an undeniable mess of their rooms, that Lily’s mind finally returns to matters outside the marriage bed. James has started to doze when her finger finds the dimple in his chin and she asks quietly, “Tell me about your parents.”

“You know most of it already,” James murmurs against her hair, pressing an errant kiss to the crown of her head, “But I know you - just ask the question you’re dying to.”

Chuckling, Lily props herself up on one elbow and watches him for a moment. “Why - I can’t help but think none of this was a mistake.”

“Invoking the Moirai?” 

Her fingertip wanders over the planes of his face, mapping each dip and rise, committing it to memory. “Not in the sense of the ladies of fate themselves, but prophecies that span thousands of years before coming to fruition are hardly happenstance when they do. Have you - have you considered perhaps your parents knew what was coming long before - that they wanted to prevent everything?”

“Of course, it’s logical to assume they knew, but less so that they tried to interfere,” James pauses and pulls her hand to his chest, brushing his fingers along hers, “I’ve made my peace with it. They surely had their reasons. No real way to judge things from now, not fairly that is. Things then were so very different - most wouldn’t dare attempt to defy a prophetic foretelling.”

“Quite mature of you, husband,” Lily says softly, then grins, “You really are the adult among us.”

“Mm, what do you think I was brooding about all those months between my return and Riddle’s?”

“My beautiful face?”

“I was trying very hard not to brood about that.”

“Went well, eh?”

“Swimmingly,” James answers, eyes shut with content.

Lily’s mind is still whirring with possibilities and she can’t seem to turn it off, not when it all feels so close to resolution. “What was your family crest? Assuming you had one.”

James’ brows rise and he scoffs, indignant. “What do you take us for? Of course we had a crest - Sun and moon interlocked, a lion in the foreground. I’ll admit the lion did at times look a little too human faced.”

LIly stiffens and sits up. “Sun and moon - like - ”

Realization dawns on his features. “Oh hell, like Sirius’ damn eclipse.”

* * *

After the minor revelation regarding James’ family’s penchant for solar movements and the impending eclipse - which is really more like two dots connected that have as yet unknown value - James and Lily decide their morning lie in has to come to a close. The rest of their party will likely have some input on the significance, the weight of connecting James’ family specifically to the eclipse, and the elixir all while bringing it together with the earlier prophecies about James’ hand in Riddle’s death - there’s almost too much to consider. And a selfish, scared part of Lily doesn’t want to. 

Once they’re presentable and Lily’s managed to calm her pounding heartbeat, they head for Sirius’ room and find him enjoying an overdone lunch with Remus.

“How kind of you to join us, lovebirds,” Sirius says with a flick of his hair, “We thought you might never emerge.”

Lily claims the settee and lounges back against one arm, tossing her leg up on the seat, doing her best impression of calm, cool Lily. “Don’t be such a fussbudget, Sirius. We both know you have not been up long enough to complain.”

Remus snorts and tosses an apple James’ way. “I woke him up about ten minutes ago.”

While James makes himself comfortable on the plush carpet, he takes in the rather gaudy room from the rich velvet curtains to the gilded moldings, to the brocade fabric stretched over the walls, it’s exactly what he’d expect from Sirius Black. “What a surprise - you’ve kept the richest room for yourself.”

“I am the benefactor, of course.”

As James leans back against Lily’s shins, her hands find his shoulder and knead gently. “So James and I were chatting.”

It’s a vague beginning, but her chest is tight with what might come of pressing this, of the revelations that might finally push her past the deniability of unfinished business that could change everything and wrench them apart.

“Is that what they - ” Sirius’ sentence ends with Remus’ elbow in his ribs. He glares but complies and returns to the original topic, “Yes, what have you brought us, Potters?”

James brushes Lily’s fingers with his. “Tell us more about the text, the message from my parents.”

“As far as I can tell, it’s a prophecy, of sorts, or a warning,” he hesitates, “They mentioned you. Or at least it seems like you. It said ` _ diavolaki leander _ .’”

James sucks in a breath and he grips Lily’s hand. “That’s - that’s me.”

She leans forward and strokes his hair back from his face, lips pressing to his forehead in a barely there kiss. Her voice is a murmur. “Their little impish lion boy.”

Their partners watch quietly, waiting, just as Lily does. It feels like everyone is out of their depth at this point - no amount of study or book learning can allow them to understand as James does. And even if it could, the close cut of any decision they make is unparalleled. “We need to protect it - to keep it away from the people they worried about. It was a mistake, making it.”

Remus fiddles with his teacup absently. “Do you think - is that why you were sent ahead, for lack of a better description?”

“I don’t believe they wanted to give me up. But I do think they understood the original prophecy to an extent. That I had to - die essentially. Without me turning on that battlefield, who knows what havoc Riddle would have wrought. And that perhaps however much they wanted their son, they couldn’t challenge fate.”

“Is it horribly selfish to be glad they didn’t?” Lily asks after a moment, “It does feel like destiny that you found us.”

James rises on his knees and turns to face Lily, cupping her jaw with his palms. “You are my  _ pepromeno _ .” 

Lily tilts into his hand and lets out a watery laugh. “And you are mine.”

Whatever James would have responded is cut off by Sirius’ snort. “I wish my mother had put a thousand years between us.”

Remus shakes his head but refrains from physical action against Sirius, understandably since it hasn’t appeared to work yet. The foursome is quiet while the gilt clock on the mantle ticks away the minutes, the sun bright and warm as it slices through the expertly shined glass panes. Aside from James moving to claim a seat next to Lily, it’s as if they’re frozen in time.

“Do you,” Remus hesitates a moment, “We are relatively certain this is a series of interconnected prophecies relating to your family line. But do we know why your parents would have gotten mixed up in all this messy alchemy?”

Sirius frowns. His gaze doesn’t waver from James’. “Do you think…”

James’ brow furrows, “It crossed my mind.”

Lily glances between them and James explains, “I think it possible they were trying to bring me back and made this by mistake. And in the process, well - maybe the Fates were unhappy with the interference.”

“Likely still are - unless you think they’ve gone on holiday too,” Sirius laughs darkly, then asks, “And the eclipse?”

Lily grunts. “Of course - that’s why we came to find you in the first place. James’ crest is essentially an eclipse. And that’s beside all the alchemical connections to lunar and solar cycles. We are on the verge of one of the most magically volatile days in our lifetimes and James is the damn center of it all.”

Remus sighs, “So I guess we’re off to save the world again, eh?”

* * *

Another day in town allows them enough time to pore over the information gathered between the four of them, logistics and local lore care of Remus and James, while Lily and Sirius had uncovered what they could on Flamel and the Potters. James’ translation confirmed what they’d thought - the regret spoken of was more than simply missing their son. It reached beyond to something dangerous, a fear that they’d left the world worse off and ran out of time to remedy the mistake.

Of course, this could be something less ominous than all that. For all they know, Fleamont and Euphemia’s regrets could come down to leaving Riddle the chance of return. After all, anyone could have found the elixir over the thousands of years it’s taken for James to return and find it.

It’s a thought, but not one they trust or are willing to accept. So soon they’re trundling off the cobbled roads onto dirt ones that run through the countryside, with Remus at the reins.

Sirius has lounged across one bench in the open air carriage while Lily and James share the opposite. The whole set up is rather plush for a ‘save the world’ adventure. Not that any less should be expected from Sirius.

While the wheels rattle along, Sirius says, “So I’ve been thinking about the regret of your parents.”

“Join the club,” James says with a rueful grin. Lily pulls his hand into her lap and strokes his arm.

“I don’t think it was any one thing,” he sits up straighter, “First off, they certainly regret not succeeding in bringing you back, second they likely took the whole life and death mess seriously and whatever they created is clearly not what they or the Flamels started out working for. We’ll never really know - maybe they wanted to live long enough to see you return.”

Lily hums. “And third, it seems like this is a less than predictable creation, alchemy has never been an exact science.”

“Science itself is rarely one,” Remus chuckles as he clicks his tongue at the horses, “Not when you’re at the wild frontier of it all.”

“And the eclipse?” Sirius asks.

James bites his lip, thoughtful. “I don’t think they knew everything, or that tying it to solar movements was necessarily intentional because of our family crest. You - it’s hard to put into the context of the modern era but my people - ” he pauses, brow furrowed, “Superstition wasn’t fringe and it wasn’t even unfounded. We’ve all seen the power of an accurate prophecy first hand. Back then it wasn’t odd to believe and if you tried to stop it you weren’t seen as a hero in any sense. So my parents - they couldn’t try to keep me from my destiny as it had been written.”

“So they did the next best thing,” Lily says softly, “Or as close as they could figure.”

“Tried,” James adds, “I suppose prophecies are living, breathing things in a way and one as strong as mine - it wasn’t to be thwarted.”

“If the elixir was for you and you’d come back too soon, we wouldn’t have had a chance against Riddle,” Remus muses and they fall into silence once again.

The early morning sun is high and bright overhead, no sign of an impending eclipse, nor of the danger that could rest just over the rolling hills. For all the world, they seem a quartet of jolly travelers on holiday at the seaside.

But soon enough, Remus guides them to the ancient cemetery filled with cracked markers, and even larger monuments to the wealthier dead interred below. 

James’ jaw is set when he steps from the carriage and offers his hand to Lily. “I have no idea how to find them.”

“We’ll do it together,” Lily answers quietly, grip on his hand tightening, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

* * *

They split off two and two to search the rows, some orderly and others crooked and meandering from years of separation between deaths, from disparity in decoration, and simply the passage of time. 

Lily knows the sketch she’d found back before so much was a simple headstone, but all they’ve learned since seems to count against the accuracy of that notation. Perhaps a deliberate falsehood to put would-be robbers off the trail. It’s all guesswork at the moment, leaving their best bet a careful examination of every plot.

Finally, after too many hours for comfort, James lets out a low exclamation and Lily runs to his side a few paces away one row over. The site is a stone and glass mausoleum with delicate carvings around what’s presumably the entry point. White marble gives way to stained glass, some intact others cracked inward with time and an iron door locking whatever lies inside away from prying eyes or ill intended hands.

She shouts for Sirius and Remus while James runs his fingers over the inscription at the right of the door, the same as she’d read on those old records,  _ beloved, held close always _ .

Behind smudged glasses, James’ eyes flutter shut as he takes slow, deliberate breaths. Remus and Sirius slow to a jog as they near, faces somber as they wait for James to speak.

After a few moments, he clears his throat, “I presume one of you has a proclivity for lockpicking.”

Lily presses a kiss to his jaw and moves forward, kneeling as she pulls out her kit. It’s been ages since she’d needed to use her tools but she’d kept fairly agile by locking doors around the cottage and forgoing the use of her keys.

The heavy weight of the components moving against her slim tools is familiar, the focus a welcome cleanse of her whirring mind. Calming the thoughts that have spun around in endless circuits for the last two days. 

It’s an old lock, ancient actually, so the pieces are simpler than some Lily’s come across, and soon enough the door swings open with a low creak. Sunlight cuts through the dim interior, dustmotes floating on the air pushed by their movements as the group enters with James at the lead.

Shattered glass crunches beneath boots, painted tributes half worn away from the walls seem to depict an entire lifetime and Lily’s heart skitters when she finds the images no longer contain a lone couple and instead turn to a family of three. Even the simplistic figures capture the features James inherited from his parents - lanky build and wild hair from his father, deep set eyes from his mother - it’s a little heartbreaking that she’ll never get to see up close.

James swipes at his eyes with the back of his wrist and clears his throat. “Do we think - is the elixir in a secret compartment?”

Sirius presses his shoulder to James under the pretense of joining his search, but Lily sees the muscles in James’ back relax as he accepts the comfort. “I would say a compartment is likely. Some sort of triggering mechanism is what we’re looking for - simple enough that it could be released but the hope is generally that only the creator would use it.”

Remus nods as he runs a gentle hand over the walls, fingers prodding and poking at every ledge and crevice. “I know it’s no help to things - but by the look of things the eclipse is not long off.”

While James and Sirius sharpen their search, Lily crouches and examines the timeline of the Potter family and finds the trio - James now grown to adulthood - posed almost like a portrait with the sun and moon behind them, half eclipsed. Perhaps the images were more than tribute...perhaps a roadmap of sorts to the seeker.

The carvings below are like the rest along the base of the wall, intricate and filled with anything from crashing waves to blooming flowers. Here a lion bares its teeth in a silent roar, mane billowing backward with the phantom movement. 

Biting her lip, Lily lets her finger slide between the jaws and drag over the smooth inner surface of the lion’s mouth until her touch catches on a small latch and a quiet  _ click  _ sounds.

Slowly, a compartment no wider than Lily’s hand slides open, the hollow sound stone grinding on stone echoing in the room, the sky darkening enough that Sirius ignites a lamp they’d brought along and gently sets it atop one of the stone caskets.

With the damn the consequences attitude Lily’s never been able to overcome even with age, she reaches inside and swipes her hand through the empty space until her skin brushes a cool glass object. It hums beneath her touch as she pulls it out into the rapidly dimming light to examine it more closely. Air rushes in her ears and her pulse pounds. James’ shouts are lost to her as the vial begins to feel like an extension of her.

Beneath the glass, liquid undulates like a living thing, swirls licking over the sides and glowing low like ignited coal. She hears James’ voice pitch lower, call her name like a warning.

The longer she holds it, the more it warms in her palm, biting now rather than comforting, the light within sparking until shots of gold slice through the glass, stinging her skin like sparklers. Her body feeling light and yet immovable, like she’s frozen in between moments.

She can’t seem to tear her eyes away, but her mind grinds to action and her voice sounds thin when she speaks, “James.” 

Sirius swears low and vicious and soon she can feel her companions crowded close by, though the comfort is minimal, as though all her body can comprehend is the growing heat that travels up her arm, cracks slowly forming in her skin. She watches as James’ hands grab her forearms, sees him duck his head and press his lips to her skin as it turns ashen.

But instead of pain, it's a delirious sort of euphoria that fills her, even as Sirius joins James’ desperate shouts, as Remus shakes her shoulders. The sun is truly gone now, the world black as pitch save the glowing crystal in her hand. 

Part of her knows the horrific picture she must make, slowly turning molten, her body splitting open, eyes blown wide, body completely out of her own control. But she can’t really feel it, the terror that really should wrack her body like it does James’.

Vaguely she hears them exchanging increasingly panicked words, James begging for her to look at him, telling her he loves her, but none penetrate her comprehension fully until James’ plea for the baby. 

Her mind finally grinds into action and her body begins to comply, paralysis relenting at least enough to let her eyes find James’, for her to recognize the tears running down her face in steady trails, and recognize the heartbroken expression on James’ face. 

“I love you Lily,” he says, just before he pulls her into his chest like he has so many times, and it's a warm comfort nothing like the overwhelmingly heady power of the stone. She shudders out a breath and then suddenly she’s cold and the stone flares. 

Flares in James’ palm.

She shrieks in horror, the blisters on her hand and arm already fading back to pale skin while James stumbles backward until his back collides with the wall. 

Vaguely, she hears him shouting for Sirius and Remus, feels their hands grab at her but she shoves them away. “I am not leaving him - stop!”

Sirius grips her hand and pulls harder, “Lily we can’t - he is the only one that can contain it. He told us what to do. It’s too out of control. There’s nothing - ”

Remus looks at her, pleading, “You didn’t see what it was doing to you. You were - it looked like lava, and we couldn’t reach you. You were slowly burning from beneath your skin. The heat was like standing in front of a pyre. He’s the only one with a shot at having enough magic roiling around in him to keep the power from killing everyone within a ten mile radius.”

Lily wrenches herself away from their pulls. “That doesn’t mean I’m leaving him - I can’t leave him. He needs me,” her chest rises in a shuddering sob, “I need him.”

James calls out for her, his arm already too heavy for him to remain upright. He slumps against the wall as bone and muscle and sinew slowly turn back to cold marble. She’d almost been devoured by the power, and he’s absorbing it all. “Lily please.  _ Go _ .”

The last word is wrenched from his throat just before he bellows in pain, eyes clenched shut and suddenly she can see it all - from that very first day. His confused eyes warm on hers, those blissful summer days spent learning each other while he learned the new world. Friendship growing to something more. The press of his lips on hers, the slow movement of their bodies and together in a dance she thought they’d have years to perfect. The unbridled joy when he learned of their child.

She can’t stop the wild yell that grinds from her throat, “How many times are you going to die Iacomus?”

The stone eating away at him grows nearer to his heart, his remaining skin glowing golden while his hazel eyes linger on hers and he crunches the elixir in his palm. “I love you.”

A shockwave ripples out from his body as the final bit of him hardens to stone and with it, takes the last of the strength in Lily’s legs.

Sirius growls and smashes the lamp to the ground, shards of glass scattering while the light gutters and sends them into blackness.

Lily hears him storm from the final resting place for the Potter line, feels Remus embrace her. “James wouldn’t - ”

“Well James isn’t here to say what he bloody wants and it’s that damn arseholes own fault,” she shouts before a sob wracks her body. “Just - give me time. Go stop Sirius from doing something idiotic.”

Remus hesitates for a moment before he leaves to follow Sirius. 

Lily pushes to her feet, barely feeling the shattered glass prick her palms, her entire body numb and moving like an automaton, completely outside her own consciousness.

Slowly, she steps toward James, her James, frozen and cold to the touch as she runs her hand over his arm, fingers lingering on the cuff of his shirt, the suspenders strung over his shoulders, his perpetually crooked glasses, the grim set of his jaw. His gaze still set as it was, on her, as the life was slowly leached from his body.

His hunched position brings their heights closer together, a torturous mimic of his posture when he leaned in to kiss her. “I’m so very angry, and yet still so glad you were mine.”

With gentle hands, she cups his cheeks and presses her forehead to his, barely conscious of her actions as she murmurs like some uncontrollable impulse, “ _ Novus lapis vibrus _ .”

She shifts until her face is buried against his neck, the warm, heady scent of him replaced with nothingness as her tears slip over the smooth marble. 

A low tremble rumbles through her bones and she topples backward and only just manages to keep her feet. 

Blinding light fills the room and Lily can’t help but bring her arm over her eyes. And just as quickly as it appeared, the light is gone and the stone slowly begins crumbling before her as the sun reemerges and lights the day.

That’s when the final blow to her grip on her composure lands, as she sees the last she or her child have of James begin to fall away. Blood streaked pieces fall to the ground at her feet and where she expected nothingness, deep hazel eyes slowly blink back at her while the remaining marble crumbles.

With a half crazed exclamation, Lily stumbles toward him and begins pulling the stone away from him. At least until his arms are free and he pulls her into his chest and she feels the glorious rhythm of his bounding heart. In between kisses placed to every bit of him she can reach, Lily murmurs his name, grasps every living, breathing bit of him she can.

When he chuckles against her mouth, she pushes his chest, tears welling against her will. “What the bloody buggering hell was that?”

“Saving you, our little one, and then as a result at least a lot of people in our vicinity,” James answers as he pulls her close and they melt to the floor.

Slowly, he runs his fingers through her hair and her breathing calms enough for her to bite back, “I’m glad you’re alive because I could  _ kill  _ you James. I really - “ her throat closes up, “I thought you left me, left us.”

“When you love someone, it’s eternal,” he says, quiet, “They don’t leave you, not really anyway. And I love you both.”

“James I was handling it and you just - ”

“I love you,” James repeats.

“And  _ you  _ just had to jump in and take all the glory and do your save the world moment while I was left here like- like nothing ever changed,” Lily continues, “Except I have this piece of you, of us, growing inside me and I- ”

Her sentence ends on a strangled sob and James pulls away, swiping the tears from her cheeks, “Oh - things have changed. Lily you’ve given me - ”

His hand falls to her barely swollen belly, “Who knows what could have happened to our little one if you - and there was no guarantee.”

“Which is  _ why  _ you shouldn’t have - ”

He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I promise next time we get the chance to do something rash and sacrificial - ”

“So you admit - ”

“- I will let you do it.”

Lily buries her watery laugh in his shirtfront. “How about we all just stay alive?”

James lifts her face so her eyes find his, “For you, my love, anything you ask.”

And then they’re drawn together like they’ve always been, his lips pressed to hers like they were forged over millennia, Lily and James, to be the perfect matched set. Shards of humanity honed and crafted through heartbreak, war, and victory to fit together like puzzle pieces.

As James sighs into her kiss, he murmurs, “Maybe we should - go find Remus and Sirius?”

Lily laughs and reaches up to hold him in place, her injured palm smarting as it drags against his hair, “They’ll be fine minding themselves for another moment. Just let me hold you - ” her voice catches.

Nodding, James pulls her into his lap and presses his forehead to hers. “As you wish.”


End file.
